


Father's Daughter

by jujubiest



Series: SPN One-Shots [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Claire Novak is Dean-coded, Dean Winchester is Claire Novak's Parent, Dean Winchester is such a dad, Discussions of Homophobia, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Jimmy Novak (mentioned) - Freeform, John Winchester (mentioned) - Freeform, M/M, no betas we die like Jimmy Novak (I'm sorry for that one)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: “I keep thinking about my dad,” Claire says, halfway through lunch. She’s sitting nearly curled all the way up at the picnic table Dean nabbed when they arrived, eyes fixed on the hem of her jeans. There’s a loose thread there, and she keeps picking at it. “Sometimes I wonder what he’d think of me. I feel like maybe I’m...letting him down.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Series: SPN One-Shots [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/177362
Comments: 9
Kudos: 171





	Father's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> It's 8am here and this is what my brain decided I needed to do at 6am instead of continue sleeping.

_I am my father's daughter_  
_I have his eyes_  
_I am the product of his sacrifice_  
_I am the accumulation of the dreams of generations_  
_And their stories live in me like holy water_  
_I am my father's daughter_

* * *

Dean isn’t sure he’ll ever be a dad in the regular way, and he’s mostly okay with that. He’s always stepped in, piecemeal, when there was a kid in front of him who needed one, and stepped back again when he knew they were good to go without him. First Sam, then Ben. He very pointedly doesn’t let himself think about Emma, a moment when he still feels he failed utterly. He’ll spend the rest of his life—maybe the rest of eternity—making up for the ways in which he failed Jack.

And then there’s Claire. She’s not his, not really. She’s Jody’s girl, and maybe Cas’s in some strange transitive way that nobody is sure is healthy but equally no one is inclined to examine. But unlike Ben and Sam, or Jack, or even poor Emma, Claire had something once that none of Dean’s not-quite-kids ever had. A stable home, a functional family. A dad who was doing his best all the time, and was torn away through no fault of his own.

Sometimes she needs to talk about him, and she won’t do it with Jody. Dean’s not sure if she thinks Jody would be hurt by it, or if she’s just so tangled up and angry that she doesn’t want to let those thoughts out at home, let them infect the one place she feels safe. He does know why she won’t talk to Cas about it, and he loves her for it, even if he can acknowledge, prying himself away from the love-tinted glasses he views Cas through always nowadays, that Cas might actually deserve the pain it would cause him.

That leaves Dean, and really, he’s happy to oblige. He gets it, in some way that he’s not sure anyone else will, what it’s like to have your happy, loving father replaced by some cold unfeeling monster, then dragged away from you forever. He knows intellectually that his parents weren’t perfect before the fire, but he only has what he remembers to feel things about. And what he remembers is being safe and _loved_. And then, quite suddenly, that he wasn’t anymore.

So whenever Claire calls asking if they can grab a bite, Dean makes the drive without questions or protest. They pick some unlikely hole-in-the-wall that’s supposed to have the best whatever and drive, and Dean lets her pick the music (“just don’t ever tell Sam”), and they have lunch. And somewhere in the midst of that, she’ll start to talk.

“I keep thinking about my dad,” she says, halfway through the best burger South Dakota has to offer. She’s sitting nearly curled all the way up at the picnic table Dean nabbed when they arrived, eyes fixed on the hem of her jeans. There’s a loose thread there, and she keeps picking at it. “Sometimes I wonder what he’d think of me. I feel like maybe I’m...letting him down.”

“Hey,” Dean says, leaning in so she has to look at him. “I didn’t know your dad for long, but I know this much: he loved you more than anything. You could never let him down.”

“But that’s the thing, you _didn’t_ know him,” she snaps, but softens immediately. “There’s things…”

She trails off, and Dean decides, in a rare moment of wisdom, not to push. He and Claire are a lot alike, poor kid. Everyone always thinks they need to be pushed to talk about their feelings. But sometimes what they really need is to just be given the time and space to figure out what those feelings are. So he waits.

“Me and Kaia,” she blurts after several minutes have passed. Dean feels his own eyebrows lift in surprise, and quickly schools his expression. Claire doesn’t talk about Kaia often, like she’s holding that love close to her chest, unwilling to share it. Dean can relate, but he’s not sure how they went from talking about Jimmy to Kaia.

“My dad,” she continues haltingly, and then it clicks into place. Dean’s stomach sinks. “He...he wouldn’t be okay with us. I _know_ he wouldn’t,” she hurries on, as though she thinks Dean is going to contradict her.

“I mean, it kinda goes with the whole holy roller schtick he had going, right? There were just...some things he used to say. About...that. And the Bible.”

She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. Dean knows it is. They really are heartbreakingly alike.

He finishes his fries and wipes his hands. Takes a drink of his beer. Swallows. Thinks.

“You know,” he says finally. “My dad wouldn’t be okay either.”

Claire looks at him, eyes sharp and surprised. Dean’s heart clenches. He knows it’s really Jimmy she looks like, but sometimes? Sometimes it’s just like with Jack. Dean looks at these kids that aren’t quite his but  _are,_ in important, irrefutable ways, and all he sees is Cas. Jack got his unending capacity for love and forgiveness and understanding, but Claire? Claire got that indomitable part of him, the part that’s bigger than life, the will to defy god and lay siege to Hell itself.

He envies them that, but only the tiniest bit. He thinks a kid like Claire can probably use that kind of strength. She’s not the type to choose a life that will be comfortable, or easy.

There again, just like Dean.

“My dad was a…” Dean laughs a little, but it’s sad. Forced. “Listen, I loved him, the way you can’t help it because they’re your parents. But my dad was a grade-A bastard ninety-nine percent of the time. I won’t even list all the ways, there’s too many, but...one of the ways?” He meets Claire’s eyes, admits the thing he never talks about, not even with Sam.

“He would’ve _hated_ seeing me with Cas. _Hated_ it. It wouldn’t matter Cas is an angel, or what he’s done for me, all the times he’s saved me. It wouldn’t matter that he makes me happier than I’ve ever been, or could ever be without him.”

“Gross,” Claire says without heat, smiling a little. Dean smiles back, genuine the way his laughter wasn’t.

“I know, right?” He laughs again, but sobers quickly. “Thing is, it wasn’t about religion for him. My dad didn’t believe in any god, and he sure as shit wouldn’t have cared what one thought about anything, or wanted. For him it was just…hate.” He shrugs, trying to make it small when it isn’t, trying to pretend it doesn’t hurt him still.

“I’m sorry,” Claire almost whispers. Dean shakes his head at her.

“No kid, my point is...Jimmy wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t my dad. He was a holy roller, right? He believed things because he thought they were right, were God’s plan or whatever. It wasn’t just about hating for him. And…”

He pauses, not sure whether to even bring this up. They don’t talk about the last time Claire saw her father, not ever. It’s an open wound between all of them that will never heal, no matter how much they grew to love each other after. He feels a rare moment of despair, dragging at him, pulling him down like quicksand. Everything in his life is drenched in blood, even the good parts. He’ll never be free of it completely.

He shakes his head. Takes a breath. Claire waits, like she knows what he’s thinking, and doing. Hell, she probably does.

When he’s ready, he continues, voice much softer than before.

“I dunno if you know _this_ part of it, but after spending a few months in Cas’s head? Your dad was done with angels, with God...all of it. I doubt he would’ve held onto some ancient bigoted crap just because the Bible said so after that, especially if it hurt you. That’s all he wanted, the entire short time I knew him. To get back home to you, and your mom.”

Claire smiles at him. There are tears in her eyes but she blinks them away. Dean wonders if he should let himself cry more, when he feels like it.

“Thanks,” she croaks. “That’s...thanks, old man.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

* * *

He drops Claire off at Jody’s as the sun is setting, and then starts the long drive home to Kansas. He thinks sometimes about moving out of the bunker, somewhere closer to the girls, maybe halfway between. Somewhere he and Cas can visit all the people they love whenever they want, and Cas can have a garden, and wake up to sunlight streaming over his face.

Maybe they’ll do that, one of these days. For now though, the thought of leaving the only home they’ve ever shared starts  a panicky, aching feeling going in his chest, like a part of him is afraid if they let it go, they’ll lose the idea of home for good.

He’s still got some issues to work out, clearly, before he makes any big, sweeping changes to his life.

He should probably stop to sleep once the sun goes down, but he’s too wired. And too eager to be home, if he’s honest with himself. It’s been a long time since he slept away from the bunker for more than a single night, and longer still since he slept anywhere without Cas wrapped around him. He has less than zero desire to break that streak now.

The sun is up again by the time he reaches the bunker, and he’s so tired he can barely see straight as he parks Baby and stumbles across the garage. The familiar sights and smells and background noise of  _home_ wrap around him, though, steady him as he makes his way inside, across the library and down the hall, and through the door to his—their—bedroom.

Cas is still in bed, asleep. He’s no early riser as a human, not that Dean minds. He’s also a very heavy sleeper, normally, but he shifts and opens one eye as soon as Dean sits on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.

“Go back to sleep, sunshine,” Dean murmurs, reaching out to smooth a hand across Cas’s impossible bedhead. Cas leans into the touch and hums contentedly, and then ignores Dean in favor of watching sleepily as he undoes his boots, pulls off them and his socks, and shucks out of his jeans and flannel as well.

He draws the covers back and pulls Dean in with his whole body, wrapping him up in the too-warm softness of the blankets. Dean sinks into it with a sigh, arms slipping around Cas’s waist to pull him in tighter, face pressed to his chest so that Dean can feel his heartbeat through the threadbare shirt he slept in.

“Missed you,” he whispers, already halfway to sleep. Cas hums and cards a hand through his hair, presses a kiss to the top of his head.

“Sweet dreams, Dean,” he says in that soft voice he only ever uses when it’s just them, that voice reserved for confessions and affections and sweet somethings shared between kisses.

Dean drifts off to the beat of Cas’s heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the security of Cas’s arms wrapped tight around him like he belongs there, because he does. His last conscious thought, before sleep claims him entirely, is that his dad couldn’t be more wrong, and he was right about Jimmy. No parent who loved their kid the way he knows Jimmy loved his Claire would ever hate something that made them feel this safe, and contented.

**Author's Note:**

> Song lyrics at the beginning are from My Father's Daughter by Jewel and Dolly Parton. It's not a song that reminds me of Claire overall, but that chorus hit me straight in the chest with the Claire feels when I heard it.


End file.
